


Pocket Change

by unsettled



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Consent Issues, Dirty Talk, First Time, Getting Together, Humiliation, Kinktober, M/M, POV Tony Stark, Rough Sex, Sex for Money, Unsafe Sex, but not really paid sex?, it makes sense at the end, peter still has a lot of sass, slightly darker Tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:00:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27259831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unsettled/pseuds/unsettled
Summary: Peter thinks he has to feel like he's earned things to be happy with them? Well, Tony doesn't like it but he can work with it.He can take advantage of it.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 30
Kudos: 264
Collections: Unsettled's Kinktober 2020





	Pocket Change

Peter doesn’t like his gift. 

They’re up in the penthouse after hours of messing with a new variation on the web shooters, and Tony thought it was the perfect time to give Peter his graduation present. A little early, but whatever, it’s better than forgetting, right?

“What?” Tony says. “What’s wrong? Normally people like my gifts.” Which is completely false, but maybe he can convince Peter it's true. 

“It’s great, Mr. Stark,” Peter says. “Really, it is.”

“But?”

Peter hesitates. “It’s just,” he says, “um. A lot.”

“No it’s not,” Tony says, and it really isn’t.

“Well, it’s a lot to me,” Peter says. “I just don’t really feel like I’ve done anything to earn it.”

“Okay, well— first thing,” Tony says, “you don't need to earn it. That’s kind of the point of a present, Peter. And second, you’ve earned pretty much anything I could give you simply by Spider-Manning.”

“I have some pride,” Peter mutters. “And I don’t do that to earn anything, I just… I have to do it. It feels weird to consider that part of some sort of exchange.”

“Yeah, pride? Pride is a bad idea,” Tony says, and he does not appreciate the look Peter gives him. “Hey, don’t give me that, it should be obvious I know what I’m talking about. I didn’t say I was good at not having it. But if it’s preventing you from accepting a gift that would make life easier, that I want to give you— not worth it, kid.”

Peter sighs. “Nevermind,” he mutters. “Just— thank you, Mr. Stark.”

Tony frowns at him. This is completely unacceptable. Peter has to feel like he’s earned shit to be happy with it? Fine. 

It’s stupid as fuck, but he can work with it. 

“Friday, don’t I have a stash somewhere around here?” Tony asks.

“Third drawer down on the left hand side of the sink,” Friday says. “With the corkscrews.”

“Why on earth did I put it there,” Tony mutters, digging around until he finds an envelope. 

“I couldn’t possibly say,” Friday says, dry as a desert. 

“Alright,” Tony says, back on the barstool. He dumps the envelope out, bills scattering across the counter. “What have we got here?”

“Why do you just have a whole envelope of money in your corkscrew drawer?” Peter asks. “Actually, why do you even have a corkscrew drawer? Is that a thing people have?”

“It’s not just corkscrews, obviously. And I have stashes everywhere,” Tony says. “You never know when you might need some cash.” He stacks the loose bills; looks like about thirty thousand, roughly. He taps them against the counter, evening the stack. 

This is a bad idea. A really, really bad idea, and Tony knows that. If he does this, if he goes there, he won’t be able to play it off as a joke or a test or something innocent, and everything will change. He should not do this.

But that part of his head is a lot quieter, now. Sometimes, he thinks he came back a little wrong. That when he died—and he had died—when the stones did their thing and put him back together, they didn’t do it quite right. Because the part of him that was never more than a whisper is so, so much louder now. 

That’s the part that is saying, why not? Why shouldn’t he? He knows what he wants, knows how long he’s wanted it, so why shouldn’t he just take it? Life’s short, after all. It’s not like Peter is going to say no. 

It’s not like Tony can’t make him say yes.

“Okay,” Tony says. “You wanted to feel like you earned the money I give you, right?” Peter nods, slowly. Tony holds up a single hundred. “I’ll give you a hundred to take off your shirt.”

Peter startles. “To— what?” he says. “I— are you serious?”

“Absolutely,” Tony says. Grins. “Come on, I know you’ve taken it off for less.”

“That is not— you know what, fine!” and Peter yanks off his shirt. His overshirt. 

“Very funny,” Tony says. He sets the bill on the counter, separate from the rest. Picks up another and sets it on top of the first. “Another hundred to take off that shirt too.”

Peter huffs, apparently deciding to treat this as some sort of poor taste joke. Pulls his shirt up over his head and drops it, and immediately crosses his arms over his chest. “Happy?”

“Ecstatic,” Tony tells him. He adds another bill to the pile. “A hundred to take off your pants.”

That gets a hesitation, but Peter does it all the same. He’s starting to blush now, faintly. “Really?” Tony says. “Leaving the socks on? Is that the vibe you’re going for?”

“Hey,” Peter says. “You didn’t say anything about socks.” He glares at Tony. 

“Oh, already hedging for more,” Tony says. Peter opens his mouth, like he’s going to deny it, and then says nothing at all. “Okay, a hundred for the socks. I’ve never paid someone to do that,” he adds, contemplatively. 

“Great,” Peter says as he hops on one foot, peeling off his sock. “I’m so glad I got to be your first for that,” and then he freezes for a moment like he just processed what he said. 

If Tony has his way, Peter’s going to get to be first for a number of things. 

Peter crosses his arms again when he stands, and it isn’t anything Tony hasn’t seen before. He’s had Peter in nothing but his boxers down in that lab several times, or caught glimpses when Peter’s changing into the suit. There’s nothing new about what he’s seeing now.

It’s still different. 

“Alright,” Tony says. “Come here.” He waits until Peter is standing right in front of him, watching Tony warily. Blushing darker by the second, and this— Tony sets another bill on Peter’s pile. “A hundred for a kiss,” he says, his mouth dry.

Peter’s eyes go wide. He glances down, licks his lips. “Okay,” he whispers, too easily, and leans in. 

It’s a soft little brush of a kiss, chaste, and Tony’s not having that. This might be the only one he ever gets, so he’s going to make it count. He gets his hand around the curve of Peter’s jaw, fingers on the back of his neck, and pulls him in closer. Kisses him harder, filthy, Peter’s mouth opening when Tony presses his tongue against it. Peter shudders at that, leaning in closer and moaning into the kiss. 

When Tony lets him pull back, Peter is slack jawed and flushed, looking utterly ruined from such a small thing. “You know that was the wrong answer, right?” Tony says, low. “Someone offers you money for sex, you’re supposed to say no.”

Peter swallows. “It was just a kiss,” he says. Hesitates. 

Looks Tony straight in the eyes. “Do you want to buy some more?”

_ Goddamn. _

Tony doesn’t say a word. Just picks up another hundred and adds it to the pile. 

This kiss is better, Peter eager for it, his hands coming up to cling to Tony’s shirt. He’s not any good at kissing, but it doesn’t really matter to Tony at the moment. Tony can make up for it. 

Peter tries to pull back when the kiss ends, when Tony goes in for another. “Isn’t— isn’t it for each?” he says. 

“Oh no,” Tony says. “The first one was only worth that because it was the first. And it was  _ your _ first too, wasn’t it.” Peter nods, a tiny movement. “A hundred buys a lot more kisses now,” Tony says. 

Not that he’s actually keeping count. He just kisses Peter, Peter edging closer and closer, pressing against him and kissing back. Trying to copy what Tony does, with limited success, and making soft, pretty noises into Tony’s mouth. Tony reaches out and fumbles around at one point, dropping another bill near Peter’s pile and going right back to kissing. 

Peter’s half in his lap, straddling his thigh and grinding his crotch against it, almost humping Tony. He whines softly when Tony pulls back, his fingers tightening in Tony’s shirt. “A hundred to leave a mark,” Tony whispers. Peter nods.

Tony grabs Peter’s hair, yanking his head back and loving the gasp that gets. He puts his mouth right over that pulse point, Peter’s heartbeat pounding along, and sucks at it. Bites a little, working at it to leave something that will last more than a few hours with Peter’s healing. “Ohmigod,” Peter groans. “Mr. Stark—” 

He should tell Peter to call him something else, but like most of the shoulds, he shoves it aside without any real effort. 

Peter moans as Tony keeps worrying at that spot; he would be noisy, Tony thinks. He likes it. Still— he pulls away, pressing his hand to Peter’s chest and pushing him back, away. Peter looks confused, and keeps looking confused as Tony stands, sliding off the stool. Holds a hundred between them, waiting until Peter takes it. “Get your underwear off,” Tony says. 

He doesn’t watch, walking over to the living room area, digging around in a couple spots until he finds what he wants. Drops that and the pile of bills he scooped up on the couch as he sits on it, and looks back at Peter. Peter’s shifting from foot to foot, nervous, and he’s got nothing to worry about. Fuck, he’s hot. “Look at you,” Tony says. 

Leans back and spreads his legs. “Come here.”

Peter takes a step forward; “No,” Tony snaps, and Peter freezes. “Crawl.”

There’s a long moment of nothing, Peter just staring at him, wide eyed. “What?” Tony says. “A hundred not enough for that? How about two?” Peter shudders. “Three?” 

He’s blushing as he kneels, as he starts to crawl toward Tony. Blushing dark and all down his shoulders, not looking at Tony at all, obviously embarrassed as hell, and Tony likes that too. Likes even better that Peter is doing it anyway, even if it’s just for the money. God, Tony knows this is wrong, knows he shouldn’t be touching or looking or even thinking about Peter this way. But he is, and he has been, and it only makes it worse that he’s purchasing it, playing on Peter’s insecurities to get what he wants. 

It makes it so much better. 

Peter stops between Tony’s legs, settling back on his heels and darting a glance up at Tony. Tony picks up three bills and shows them to Peter, Peter’s eyes following them as Tony sets them on his other side. “The same for you to get out my dick,” he says. 

That is definitely a moan Peter bites back before he reaches up, fumbling at the button and zipper of Tony’s jeans. He pulls Tony’s dick out carefully, his hands gentle, more than Tony wants them to be. “Another three for your mouth,” Tony says.

Peter hesitates. Looks up at him, nervous but a little— teasing? Cheeky, maybe? “I don’t know,” Peter says. “Shouldn’t it be worth more?” 

Tony laughs. “You greedy slut,” he says, and Peter’s face somehow goes redder. “First off, you’re not going to be any good, so it’s not like I’m paying for quality.” Peter’s eyes go wide, that sass dropping away entirely, and ducks his head. “And second— it’s worth more the more innocent you seem,” Tony says. “And you’re seeming less and less so by the second.” 

“Oh god,” Peter mutters. “I—” He whimpers, softly. When he looks back at Tony, his eyes are liquid, like he’s a little hurt. And probably a lot embarrassed. Good. 

“Maybe you have a point,” Tony says. Picks up four bills and holds them out. “I’ll spend another hundred on you because you’re just so pretty.” Drops the bills instead of adding them to the pile, watching as they flutter down around Peter’s knees. 

It’s not a good blowjob, not at all; Peter doesn’t have a clue what he’s doing, messy and not in the good way. It’s still pretty hot, from watching Peter trying alone. Better when Tony takes charge and holds Peter’s head, fucking into his mouth instead. “You’ve got a tongue,” he says. “Use it.”

Even better when Peter tries to, when Peter gags on Tony’s dick, throat convulsing around the head. Tony groans, forcing Peter back down, again and again, until tears are streaming from Peter’s eyes— but if Peter didn’t want this, if Peter wasn’t willing, there’s no way Tony could make him stay. Fuck, just that thought is almost enough to have him close to coming; he pulls Peter off fast. 

Fuck, Peter’s a mess, lips red and swollen, spit all down his chin, tears on his face. Disgusting. “You have options,” Tony says, a little breathless, and Peter blinks at him, slow. “Three hundred, I come on your face. Four, I come in your mouth and you swallow like a cock hungry bitch.” Peter shudders. “Five— fuck it, six hundred, and you get up here and fuck yourself on my dick.”

Peter’s mouth drops open as he stares at Tony. For a second, maybe two at most, before he speaks; “Six,” he says. “That one.” 

“Mmm,” Tony hums. Picks up the condom and lube he’d brought over earlier. “For six, I use both,” he tells Peter, holding them up. “For eight, I lose the condom, and for a thousand— I lose both. I fuck you rough with nothing but spit, and you thank me for it.”

He’s got Peter in his lap before he can even blink, Peter taking the condom and lube from his hand and tossing them aside. “The last one,” he says. 

“You’re a real gold digger, aren’t you,” Tony says, and he really hadn’t expected Peter to be such a slut, or so down for rougher stuff. Or maybe it’s just for the money. “I bet I could have gotten you to do it for half.”

“Maybe,” Peter says. “But you’ll never know.” Jesus Christ; Tony leans up to kiss him, and Peter jerks back. “That’s extra, remember?”

“For a thousand I can get a few kisses.”

Peter hesitates, losing that teasing veneer for a moment. Regathers himself. “You could afford a lot more than a thousand, Mr. Stark,” he says, soft and low, batting his eyelashes. 

“But are you worth it?” Tony says. 

“Why don’t you go ahead and fuck me and find out?” Peter’s shaking, ever so faintly, but god, he’s got some balls on him. Like Tony didn’t already know that. He reaches over and grabs some bills, no idea how many, and presses them against Peter’s chest. Peter’s hand comes up to take them, and Tony pulls him down, kisses him until Peter melts against him, until he’s gasping into Tony’s mouth. 

“You’re already worth it,” Tony tells him. 

He doesn’t take nearly the time he should, making Peter lick his fingers, spitting on them and pressing them into Peter, opening him up. Peter’s still tense, still barely taking three by the time Tony’s patience snaps, but he’ll be fine. “Mr. Stark—” Peter whispers when Tony urges him up, spreading his ass above Tony’s dick. 

“Shhh, kid,” Tony says. “It’s going to hurt, especially with your tight little virgin hole. I’m going to fucking split you open and you’re going to thank me for it, beg me to fuck you harder. Aren’t you, Peter? Because that’s what I’m paying for, after all.”

“Shit,” Peter breathes out, closing his eyes. Nods. 

He’s loud as Tony pushes into him, gasping and whining and eventually, sobbing, his hands biting into Tony’s shoulders as Peter squirms, flinches and fights every inch. It’d be so much easier on him if he’d relax a little, but Tony’s not going to point it out. Peter’s shaking by the time he’s settled on Tony’s lap, taking every bit of his dick. His eyes are squeezed closed, and he ducks his head, setting his forehead against Tony’s shoulder. 

“Fuck, baby. You really are a whore, deep down; look at what you’ll take for my pocket change,” Tony tells him. Peter moans against his skin; Tony can feel tears dripping on him. “I love it,” he says, rocking his hips up into Peter a few times, Peter nearly screaming. “Can’t wait to fuck you, but I don’t have to, do I?” 

Peter’s hurting, it’s so obvious he’s hurting, but he still shakes his head. “You don’t,” he says. He sobs as Tony pulls him back up and off; Tony spits in his hand and gets that little bit of extra wetness on his dick. Wraps his hand around Peter’s, and there’s all the proof Tony needs.

“So is it the pain or the thought of that money that’s keeping you hard?” he asks. “Because your dick’s real happy about this.” Peter shakes his head, still tucked against Tony’s shoulder. 

“It’s you,” he says. 

“Kid,” Tony says, dragging Peter back down onto his dick. Peter muffles his cry in Tony’s shoulder. “I’m not paying you enough to be romantic.”

“Don’t have to,” Peter whispers, cutting off another sharp cry, his mouth open against Tony’s skin. Fuck, he feels so good, so tight and hot; Tony wouldn’t mind keeping him just like this, forever. 

“Go ahead,” Tony says, pressing Peter’s head closer. “You can bite me, baby,” and Peter does, sinking his teeth into that muscle. It hurts, but not enough to be distracting; just enough to remind Tony of it every time he fucks up into Peter, every time Peter jolts and tugs at that spot. He’s easing up a little, getting used to the feel of it, but he’s still clinging to Tony all the same. 

Peter moans, the first sound he’s made in a while that doesn’t sound pained, and Tony grins. “Gotcha,” he whispers, and pulls Peter down on his next upward thrust, getting another of those noises, and another, Peter starting to work with him. Starting to, for just a minute, and then he makes a sharper, startled noise, stiffening, his teeth biting down harder. 

Tony stills. “Did you just come?” he says, even though he really doesn’t need a reply. Peter lets out a tiny, high pitched little whine, and nods. “God, talk about a pain slut,” Tony says. “You know, that’s not really getting my money’s worth out of you.”

“Oh my god,” Peter mumbles. His eyes are squeezed shut when Tony grabs his hair and yanks his head back. “I’m so sorry.”

“Not yet you’re not,” Tony tells him. He hauls Peter off his lap and tips him over on the couch, sprawled along the length of it. Peter starts to push himself up, but doesn’t get far before Tony’s on him. He gets a foot on the ground, a knee on the cushions, and Peter’s legs wrapped around his waist, thrusting right back into Peter. Leans forward, his hands on Peter’s arms up above his head. “I should have known you wouldn’t last,” Tony says. “Should have known you couldn’t control yourself. I should dock your pay for that— or maybe I just won’t tip you.”

Peter’s gasping beneath him, probably hurting in a whole new way, still sore and now oversensitive from coming, having a hard time taking the pounding Tony’s giving him. “Mr. Stark,” he manages, “fuck, I— I can make it up to you, how can I— oh god—” 

“Can you?” Tony says. “What have you got to offer, hmm? What are you going to give me that I haven’t already bought?”

“I don’t know,” Peter gasps. “I don’t know, Mr. Stark— whatever you want, anything you want. Please, just— let me make it up to you.” Fuck, he sounds pretty when he begs. 

Peter sucks in a breath, soundless, with the next thrust, his eyes going wide, and that’s where Tony wants to keep him, right there, just like that. “I— I’ll— fuck!” He catches Tony’s gaze, holds it. “I’ll offer you a discount,” he says.

Tony laughs at that, short and sharp, a little out of breath himself. “The fucking gall of you,” he says. Peter moans, and when Tony glances further down, Peter’s already nearly hard again. “Tell you what,” Tony says. “You manage not to come on my cock before I’m done, I’ll give you an extra thousand. Might even give you that tip after all too.”

Peter tries, he really tries. Tony doesn’t make it easy for him, slowing down and hitting that spot again and again until Peter’s thrashing under him. “Please,” Peter gasps, “Mr. Stark, please!”

“I like hearing you beg,” Tony says, “but this is all on you, kid. A thousand if you don’t, remember?” Jerks his hips forward and holds Peter there, grinding against his prostate. Peter howls.

“I can’t,” he says, “I can’t—”

“Two thousand,” Tony whispers, leaning in closer, kissing that dark spot he’d left on Peter’s neck. “I’ll double it if you don’t.”

“Fuck,” Peter says, panting. “Mr. Stark—” He’s gritting his teeth, tense under Tony, trying to hold it back through sheer will. 

“I knew you were that greedy,” Tony says. “Want to get every last cent out of me you can, don’t you.”

“Can’t,” Peter whines, the word breaking, and then he’s coming, sobbing as he jerks in Tony’s hold. It’s so good, Peter tightening around him like that, almost too tight to even fuck into; Tony manages a few more desperate thrusts and then he’s coming as hard as Peter. 

He sinks down onto Peter as he finishes, completely done in for at least a bit. “I will pay you a ridiculous amount,” he mumbles, “to just be quiet and stay like this for a bit.”

“So…” Peter says, sounding as out of it as Tony feels. “To cuddle?”

“An obscene amount,” Tony tells him. 

“You’ve already paid me a ridiculous amount,” Peter says. “I mean, I lost count around two thousand.” 

“Told you,” Tony mutters; god, won’t he just shut up and take it? “Pocket change. I’ll give you ten, easy.”

“Jesus,” Peter says. “You’re crazy, Mr. Stark.”

“Worth every penny,” Tony says. 

“Mr. Stark?”

“Mmm?”

“I didn’t do any of it for the money,” Peter whispers.

“Yeah,” Tony says. “I kind of figured. It’s a good excuse though, right? Now shush and cuddle.”

He can feel Peter laughing, his stomach tensing, but he’s good and stays quiet. 

“You know,” Tony says after a while. “All of that’s not even a fraction of what it costs to make your suits. Not even counting my time.”

“Oh my god, I don’t want to think about that!” Peter hisses. Tony snickers. 

“Um,” Peter says, after another few minutes have passed. “Maybe… I could retroactively earn those? Somehow?”

Tony grins, hidden against Peter’s chest. “I think we can work something out,” he says. “Though you did forget one thing.”

“What?” Peter says, startled, and Tony waits. “Oh!” Peter says, after a minute. Huffs a little laugh. 

“Thank you, Mr. Stark,” he says. 

Softer, lower, hooking into Tony like a whole new addiction: “Please, Mr. Stark,” Peter says. “Next time? Please fuck me harder.”

Tony groans. “Maybe later, baby,” he says. “How much is it going to cost me?”

“I think we can work something out,” Peter says, and Tony can hear his grin. 


End file.
